The Hell Of Their Bliss
by Cailyn Bell
Summary: Although it seems peace of mind has blessed the criminal couple, hell rises for Dr. Lecter and Clarice when Barney leads the police to believe he has her held captive. Three years have passed, but the hunt for the escaped cannibal continues. Please R&R.
1. Prologue Barney's Betrayal

**(( All Charaters, Character History, and Original Character Personalities belong to Thomas Harris. Some places also belong to Rhomas Harris.))**

It hadn't been long since Barney saw Dr. Lecter and Starling at the opera that detectives, and police officers, started showing up on his door step. It couldn't have been more then a fortnight; the image of the startling couple still lingered in the back of his mind, and the thought of how close he had come to endangering himself by being there. He had been lucky that they didn't see him.

When he opened his door to the first arriving officers, he knew without a moment's thought what their interest in him concerned. It was, no doubt, the disappearance of Ex-Special Agent Clarice Starling. Everyone knew she had been back on the case, about how she saw Mason Verger's paid kidnappers take the escaped cannibal, and about how, even though she had been told not too, she went to Verger's mansion to stop the death and torture of Hannibal Lecter. Everyone also knew that she never returned from the mansion.

They searched all corners of the building in search of her, having found more then one mutilated bodies there, but then found hide of hair of her. When they searched for Paul Krendler they found him dead in his lake house, along with some of Starling's personal property, suggesting that Dr. Lecter had still been holding her captive at that time. Aside form what they could find there though, they knew nothing of her whereabouts.

Ultimately, they believed he either still had her captive, or she was lying dead somewhere, corpse likely missing portions of flesh or showing signs of rape or necrophilia. They had no psychological profile to point in the direction of sexual foul for Dr. Lecter, but they knew she had always intrigued him, and that being insane enough to the air of cannibalism, there was no way of ruling it out.

Barney wasn't sure he wanted to tell the detectives about his near encounter with Dr. Lecter and the unmistakably happy Clarice Starling. From what he saw, there had been no need for him to get involved with their new lives together, both had been radiant with pleasure for each others company. Why destroy that?

The answer was simple once it was brought up; money.

"We are offering a reward of 50 thou for any information regarding sightings, speaking, or contact with Lector," one of the detectives said when Barney shook his head and said he knew nothing. The detective had had a 'are you sure look on his face?'. "We know you've spent six years with Lecter in the Asylum, and there must have been common ground somewhere in there, but we need to find the woman, for the closure of those closest to her if nothing else.

Barney sighed, he was pretty sure there weren't many who considered Starling close to them; Adrelia Mapp seemed uninterested with the subject of Clarice anymore, and Jack Crawford had died. All the same though, money had become a great deal of an issue after his break up with his girlfriend, and Barney tried to consider his options.

'Dr. Lecter did kill a lot of people,' Barney thought to himself quickly, 'and Starling could get hurt I guess.' Barney knew those odds were slim, Hannibal didn't feel the need to hunt down or hurt those who were civil to him, Barney was living proof. Besides Starling had far better reason to remain happy and healthy in the company of Dr. Lecter, she was his sole companion; only she had really looked the other way when it came to Dr. Lecter's crimes, at least, she seemed to have done so now.

In the end, the need for money to survive himself came first, and he had his doubts about the police by now; it had been three years since Clarice Starling's disappearance.

"Actually, now that you mention it, I was in Buenos Aires two weeks ago, and I saw Dr. Lecter there at an opera," Barney stated flatly. He left out the part about Starling only because he didn't feel right outing her, he had no idea if or if not she had become part of Dr. Lecter's criminal lifestyle.

"I see," the detective smiled. He had hook-line-and-sunk Barney, just as he had hoped he would. Money would do that for them. Flipping the page over on his not pad, the detective smiled greedily and moved closer to Barney. "You wouldn't mind telling me about that would you?"

Barney swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling parched as he nodded. Outing Dr. Lecter was starting to look like a bad idea, but he already stared hadn't he? Why not continue? He could use the money to distract him from the guilt if nothing else. So without much more hesitation, Barney began to tell the detective about his near encounter with the cannibal, Dr. Hannibal Lecter.


	2. Her Worry, His Desire

Clarice Starling made little circles around her belly button with her finger, causing the fine hairs over her abdomen to prickle slightly. The feeling of the tracing lingered as she overlapped the pattern several times, and soon the pricking ceased.

It must have been quite early, as the sun had not yet risen and summer had already engulfed Rome, and yet Hannibal Lecter was not lying beside her. The place his sleek figure usually occupied at such and early time was empty and cool, the sheets wrinkled where he had been hours before, and the blankets torn back. Clarice had woken up facing the empty place, and she stared at it since.

It was unusual for Hannibal to get up so early, but it didn't bother her; there was something else on her mind to worry about.

She felt nauseous as she let her hand rest over the area she had traced with her finger, the skin there felt hot, and for a moment she considered getting up to barricade herself in the bathroom to vomit. The nausea passed before she could do so, so she stayed where she was and rested her other hand in Hannibal's place. The sheets felt cold against her fingers.

"Do you have a fever?" he had asked absentmindedly the night before, after Clarice had taken to a particularly violent vomiting session. He had been reading when she finally came out of the bathroom.

"I..I think so," She had replied, still catching her breath from the ordeal.

"Hmm." He asked no more questions about it after that.

Starling knew then that he had accepted the truth before she could, and that bothered her a bit. She wasn't sure it was what she wanted. Hannibal, however, seemed undisturbed at all by the possibility, instead, he had kissed her stomach before they went to sleep.

Thinking about it, Clarice began to trace where his lips had touched her skin again.

Considering the frequentness of their intimacy, and how often they disregarded protection altogether, the discussion of pregnancy never arose between the couple. Even now that Clarice was thoroughly convinced that Hannibal was well ahead of her in considering that possibility, he didn't mention it. Instead he acted around it. He went out and bought enough food to last them a month at least, placed a pale beside her side of the bed, and, much to his displeasure Clarice was sure, locked the wine away. He went so far as to try and convince her that the grape juice he poured into her wine glass at night was red wine. She wondered who he was kidding.

Clearly he was fine with the idea, embraced it even, but Clarice wasn't sure she wanted to admit that it was the most likely of possibilities. She wasn't sure she wanted to have children at all anymore. It wasn't that she disliked them, or the idea of being a mother, but she had to be realistic, the world she and Hannibal lived in was dangerous. They were always moving around, never staying in one place for too long in hopes of lessening their chances of being discovered, keeping a variety of fake ID's at hand, and altering their appearance every so often to refresh there ability to blend in. They were criminals, both of them now, and Clarice was sure that this wasn't the kind of lifestyle a child should grow up in.

When Clarice eased away from herself as she was before, and entered a life where she was much more like him, she never took much thought to the cannibalistic instincts she seemed to quickly inherit. If he were to fall upon someone who came close to figuring out who they were, or when the old 'free-range rude' applied to someone particular, Starling didn't shy away from joining his habits. The idea worried her now, surely Hannibal didn't expect to teach a child the quirks of a cannibal, even if he did her.

No, the more she thought about it, the more she knew that she wasn't ready, they weren't ready to raise a child.

Clarice was still dragging her finger around her belly button when the sound of a door closing sounded a floor below. Without stopping, she held her breath to listen, sure enough the faint sound of Hannibal's footfalls echoed through the quiet as he made his way up the stairs of the mansion. It didn't take him long to get to when Starling was, but as she waited, the moments slowed for her. She blinked at him when pushed the door to their bedchamber open and walked in, he was holding something in his left hand.

He smirked slightly when she began to eye his hand curiously, tracing her eyes over the scar where his duplicate finger had been removed, and lifted it to show her. It was a rather large bottle of pills. Shacking it, he smirked again.

Clarice stopped circling her naval and sat up quickly, "what are those?" She snapped lightly. As if she didn't know already.

Hannibal tossed the bottle to her and she quickly turned it around in her palms, written in large black lettering the words 'Pre-maternal Vitamins' were printed. As she expected, she wasn't surprised by them, all it did was fully convince her he had completely devoured the idea and now was enjoying its flavour.

"Have you eaten yet?" He asked, pulling off his coat and hat, still smirking to himself as he hung them up and turned to face her.

Clarice shook her head, looking over the vitamins again, "no, I wanted-'

"You need to get up and eat then," Hannibal interrupted quickly, his face was baring down on hers as he spoke, hands folded behind his back. He was waiting for her.

Clarice stared with wide eyes for a moment before shaking her head again, "I don't feel well, and we need-"

"To Talk?"

She nodded, turning her head to stare back at the bottle in her hands, "I take it you've already accepted my condition, then?" Clarice said gently, she had the feeling Hannibal was avoiding the subject as much as he wasn't, which, though confused her, made her cautious and careful with her words.

"I wondered when _you_ would, Clarice."

Clarice didn't look at him, instead she opened the bottle and popped one of the vitamins into her mouth. She didn't like how he just let her come to terms with the situation by herself, she had no idea how he really felt about it and possibilities might have been upsetting. Only now did she realize that he was both well aware, and, in his own way, content with it.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"You needed to be honest with yourself, Clarice, understand that popping pain pills and pretending to have a fever wouldn't make it go away. You needed to stop struggling with the perception of being pregnant."

Pregnant. Not only the most beautiful word known to man, but the most rotten as well. Clarice cringed a bit at its sound, Hannibal had said it ever-so-slightly breathless, and though he held his composure, she could see the faint gleam in his maroon eyes. He wasn't just content, he was pleased.

Leaning forward over her crossed legs, she sighed, "and you aren't upset?"

Hannibal moved silently to the bed and sat down beside her with a small, amused smile, then lifted his hand to shift a tress of hair from her face. "It was expected," he mused gently, "we aren't altogether 'safe' about our intimacy now are we?" When Clarice smiled slightly he continued, "no, Clarice, I could not be upset with you about something that I contributed to without considering the consequences. Its not as if you chose to go behind my back and make this happen."

Clarice's head shot up and she stared at him for a moment, "you're not with me, but are you upset about the pregnancy?"

Hannibal smiled again, "no, I daresay I'm not upset in the least. Does this concern you Clarice? Do you fear for why I don't squirm underneath the same stress you do concerning the matter?"

Analyzing her again. It seemed no matter how long they remained together, he could never stop doing that.

Clarice shrugged, "I don't understand it, that's all. I never expected it of you to want this."

"Hmm," he started, "you underestimate me Clarice, you forget that I am as human as you, that there are things I share with you as a human and that I am capable of loving things other then you."

Clarice opened her mouth to retaliate, but stopped, he was right, she didn't consider what she had come to understand about him, she thought only of what she saw regularly. Thinking now, she knew why exactly he was pleased; this was another chance to bring Mischa's memory back. Seeing as he had failed to create his sister in Clarice, what better way to give Mischa her place back on earth then through birth, this time he would be able to protect her. The thought was a bit disheartening, that Mischa was still what made the world turn for him, that it wasn't so much sharing a child with her as it was about Mischa's resurrection.

Hannibal kissed Clarice's forehead and stood up, "come on now," he mused, "you need to eat." He waited for her again.

Clarice smiled faintly and stood up, swaying a little from dizziness. Instinctively she took Hannibal's hand and let him lead her down the stairs. She wondered whether she should bring up all of her doubts, the ones about rising such a child, about his morbid interest in bringing Mischa back from the dead. She thought she had swayed him away from this regret, but the pregnancy must have gave him a new hope.

Letting him lead her still, she decided she would bring up her concerns after she eat, that is if she didn't throw up immediately after.


	3. The Dangers

Hannibal stared at Clarice as he cut an apple, in a bowl on the counter below him he had peeled some oranges and grapefruit. He traced her face with his eyes, watched her fight with herself about what she so clearly wanted to say, and smirked when she popped another pre-maternal vitamin.

Clarice wondered if it was a good time of morning to bring up the problems with her pregnancy. Sure Hannibal had been alive and awake far longer then she, but he must still be tired. She glanced at him and his eyes flared through his smirk. Watching her again, not a good time to check. Either way, she could never tell if he was tired, he either looked very mellow, often replying to conversations with 'hmm's or 'ahh's, sometimes an odd grunt, looked playfully venomous, usually pulling out all the stops to derail someone's ego, or he looked somewhat loving, but that one could easily be mistaken with mellow. There was no tired look with him, meaning no way to determine a safe zone in time.

As Hannibal finished cutting the first apple, and began on the second, he pushed the bowl across the counter in front of Clarice. She gave it a considering look before pulling out a piece of grapefruit.

"Do you think we are really the kind of people to raise a child?" Wow, word vomit. She nearly choked on the grapefruit as she spoke, it took a moment to down the wad of chewed fruit.

Hannibal continued cutting the apple, shrugging. Clearly he wasn't too concerned either way. Well, he was Hannibal the Cannibal, and he had made it this far didn't he.

"I'm serious Hannibal," she impressed before continuing, seeing as he seemed unflustered by the idea at all, "I'm talking about the way we live, the way we are. Do you really think we are the kind of people to raise a child?" She tried to put emphasis on the words 'way we are'.

Hannibal didn't stop cutting again, but his did look at her, "after all the two of us have been through, you underestimate your ability to care for someone? Need I remind you who you live with, who you've allowed yourself to come to understand. Who you love?"

Clarice shook her head as she finished chewing another piece of grapefruit, "that's not what I meant. I mean that you and I live dangerous lives now, that both of us are criminals, and that I think that that sort of lifestyle isn't right for a child," she said softly before adding, "you know, personally, what its like to have to be in hiding as a child."

Hannibal frowned as he finished cutting the fruit and one-by-one placed each piece in her bowl. She had put it lightly, but it still, under all the composure, stung his heart. He wasn't keen on speaking about his time in hiding back in Lithuania. He knew she meant that it ended badly, with the death of Mischa, and his introduction to cannibalism to start. His whole life had been heavily affected by what happened then, but times were different now, no one would die this time. He would make sure of that.

"Things aren't the same as they were back then Clarice, we live in a time that allows us the right of privacy and freedom. A child whose parents were no more then a whore and a bastard, with naught but a run down dump of a home could thrive and become a successful being to society. We are neither, and we are well off to say the least, a child in a situation such as this would not struggle, not even in the case of solid hiding would the child suffer, because together we are far above that of any teacher or tutor they may encounter. I fail to see a problem with having a baby, our histories alone would make us fair dame and sire."

"Hannibal, what happens if we get caught? Then what? The kid would be either placed in a mental institute or in foster care, and it would never understand why what we do is so wrong, or why anyone would take them away. They would be hurt, the same way I was, and the same way you were."

Hannibal stared, silent for the first time in a long void of it. Clarice felt warm and uncomfortable under his gaze. She knew she hit a nerve.

Hannibal always regretted not being able to save Mischa, her death made him who he was today, and who he would be for the rest of his life. He watched his parents die outside their family's cottage, lived in the god-forsaken Lecter Castle, then turned to an orphanage, and then was taken away by his uncle. He ended up in an asylum because of what happened, had to change his life constantly because of it, and she knew that what she said made sense, and he wouldn't deny it. He knew better.

"So your willing to disown the child," he said it gently, but his voice was chilled with venom, "your willing to destroy it? Possibly kill it, your not very far along."

Clarice felt her heart sink. He had been right when he told her he would always win; she never thought about what would happen if she decided this life was too rough for a child. She could never get an abortion, never, but leaving the child in an orphanage would be no better then having it and getting caught in the mix. It was too risky for their safety to try for adoption.

Clarice wan't left with much of an option, she either had it and risked endangering its future, or killing it, and never forgiving herself. Hannibal would never forgive her either.

"Its far better we have the baby Clarice, there are risks for every parent, every child born has a chance of dying, being taken, or ending up fucked up somewhere. We can do our best to live a normal life, teach the child what we know, what will help him or her and hope for the best, like any parent would."

Clarice smiled faintly, but she wasn't altogether convinced. But what other choice did she have?

"Would you be willing to amp down our lives for this Hannibal? We could move into a smaller house and try to settle somewhere, get permanent Ids and lay low. You would have to accept that life for the sake of the child, at least for the beginning."

Hannibal smirked again, "I'll put the house up for sale now if it will please you Clarice," he mused, reaching for the laptop that lingered on the counter side to them.

"Where to? I might as well look for a new house while I'm at it?"

* * *

**Yes, this is a dreadfully awful chapter. I may re-do it, but for now I'm leaving it like this. Sorry about the shortness and all that, I've got writers-block. Try not to hate it too much.**


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